Face the Raven
by Nagiru
Summary: Sometimes, River appears to the Doctor in her dreams. That is not always a good thing.


**Face the Raven**

_Sometimes, River appears to the Doctor in her dreams. It is not always a good thing._

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**A/N:** By the way, the title was chosen simply because I really love the imagery of the "Face the Raven" episode, not because it has anything to do with it, okay? I barely mention the scene, and then use it to do a wrap-up, but, like, this is totally focused on River and the Ponds, not Clara. Clara is just a distant thought that popped up.

So, uh, maybe I should mention that I'm a new-ish fan of Doctor Who (only actually got into it when the 11th season started being released, because I was curious about "the female Doctor". Then I started watching Matt Smith's Doctor, and loved it, and by now I've watched all of the New Who episodes, but... well. New-ish). And that I've never actually written a DW story before. I've started a couple, sure, but never really felt pleased with the characterizations, so...

For those who've not read the tags, let me do a quick recap: this is not a happy story. It's a short drabble of emotional hurt with no comfort that deal with a dead River and the deaths of Amy and Rory. Really, it's all about guilt and bad choices, and facing one's own raven (thus the name; also, here I use it as "face their own fears", partly because of the poem The Raven, if it's not clear). So... Beware.

Also, for additional tags: **angst, not a fix-it, post-ATM, emotional hurt/no comfort, problematic nouns for the Doctor**.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Doctor Who and the characters, and I make no money from this.**

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* * *

The Doctor opened her eyes to the swirling of stars of the Time Vortex, a stinging pain reaching her cheek immediately, and she knew she was asleep.

Before her, River Song stood, righteous anger and as beautiful as she'd been when the Doctor first saw her, and the Doctor swallowed hard. She was asleep, her wife was _just here_, and she'd just been hit in the face.

Something told her this wasn't going to be a good dream.

Dream River proved her right not a moment later, crossing her arms and clenching her jaw painfully.

"You could have found a way around. Tried to circumvent it. Couldn't you, _Doctor_?" She asked, but it was more of a demand, more of a war cry. It was pain and wrath and every damn thing she… He… Had ever done to hurt her, all twined together. It was the way _he _had turned his back to her pain, the way _she _had ignored her so many times…

It was the way they'd let her believe she wasn't loved, just because that was _easier_. Because that meant they'd hurt less.

"Yes." She whispered back, and she could have, and she didn't even have to ask _what_. She knew _what_. It was in the way River held herself, in the pain in her eyes, in the sheer _grief _she displayed. She _could have. _She couldhavetried a different year. She could have gone even further in the past, asked them to go somewhere else — a whole different _country_, if that meant the paradox would be thinner, easier to cross. She could have gone back and _waited_, like she (he) once did for the Master... For _Missy_... "But I didn't. I didn't _want to_."

River stared, and she was as bright and deadly as any star, and the Doctor shivered. She never deserved her wife, but it was only sometimes that she ever dared to think about how much better River would have been _without them_. Without the Doctor, darkening her life from her very birth.

"I didn't… I didn't, because I didn't want to explain to Amy… I didn't want to explain to beautiful, _magnificent _Amelia Pond, the girl who _waited for me_, and gorgeous, _amazingly kind _Rory… Roricus the Roman, The Last Centurion, waiting 2000 years for a woman…" she laughed, but it was as hollow as her heart right now, and she lifted a hand to swipe at tears that just _weren't there. _"I didn't want to explain to _your parents _that, yeah, you know River, my wife and your daughter? You know how I told you she'd be _fine_? Yes, well, that was a _lie_!" she yelled, and her pain was as fresh now as it had been when she realized that this woman she was marrying was the same woman who had died. For her. To save the universe. In a goddamned Library.

River's breath left her silently, but just as judgmentally.

The Doctor let her hand fall down, and stared at her quietly, judging her anger. Judging how screwed she was.

There was still space for more, she decided.

"I didn't want to tell them that you had died, for me, and I never _saved you_. My own wife." She smiled wryly. "So, yeah. I left them in the time paradox, and never looked back, because at least they were _alive_. Which was more than I could say for _you_, at the very least!… And about half of my friends," she admitted with a choked up laugh. "They were alive and together, and let's be honest? That's the best I could offer them. I had to stand over their graves… _You _had to stand over their graves, and I will always be sorry for that, but, you know me; I'm a coward… But at least they died _together_. And, more importantly, I never had to _watch them die_. Not this time. This time, I just watched them go — and knew they had lived. A long, happy life. _Together_." She screwed her eyes closed, unwilling to watch judgment pass over River's face once again. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. Again. I'm sorry they weren't ready for that decision. But I was _happy _to let them go like that. _Peacefully_. Painfully, yes. But _peacefully._"

She thought of a raven, and a last stand that was both beautiful and so very sad, and felt just a slightly bit more dead inside, and felt just the slightest bit more thankful that she hadn't had to watch _Amelia_ there. Facing the Raven.

Moments later, when she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the Time Vortex. Just the Doctor and her thoughts, driving her mad, and it was just like the first time she'd first stared at this wilderness — all these possibilities, all this _life_ just made her mad, just made her want to _run_. Forever. So she ran.

And she laughed.

She laughed, and kept laughing until she woke up, choking on a sob.

Even her dreams of her late wife were ready to blame her. Of course they were. Well… _She deserved that_, she admitted wryly.

Now… if only she could bring herself to admit at least some of that to the _real _River and ease _her _pain…

The Doctor guessed it was long overdue. She had run from her problems for too long, now. It was time _she_ faced her own Ravens.


End file.
